Unravel
by Teh Kiwi
Summary: It's the Christmas holidays after the war, and Theodore prepares to spend it alone. But not everyone is happy with this arrangement. SeamusTheodore Slash


Disclaimer: Characters belong to JK Rowling. Song belongs to Something Corporate. Nothing is mine really. Except the computer I used to type it on.

Warning: Angst, sex...my usual.

Author Notes: Written as a Christmas present for Nikki. Please also embrace the Seamus/Theodore love.

_

* * *

And it's been hours now, to be here like this_

Just to lay you down, just to taste your lips

Just to keep me up, I'm so tired of sleeping

Just to lay inside you, and to know this feeling.

I wanna feel through you tonight

But I won't make you

No I won't make you

Scream my name just one more time...

- Something Corporate

Theodore sat in the Great Hall, gazing steadily at the hour glasses, ignoring as best he could the sounds of the people in the corridor outside, laughing happily and dragging their trunks to the front gate, waiting to head home for Christmas. The first Christmas without war.  
Theodore wasn't going home. He had no one to go home to. Nothing to celebrate. His father was dead, for which he was glad. But Blaise was dead. And now he had no one. Keeping his eyes fixed ahead of him had allowed him some distraction, and meant that no one could see the redness of his eyes where he had cried so much and for so long that there was just no strength left in him anymore. Snape had merely nodded when he had asked to stay in school over Christmas, even though he would be almost alone. He flinched momentarily as the noise beyond the hall grew louder, before subsiding as the door behind him opened and closed again. Quiet footsteps advanced and halted at a distance.  
"Theo"  
He couldn't reply.  
"Aren't you going home"  
Still no reply. The footsteps sounded again, though not away as he had hoped. But towards.  
"Theo?" The voice was in his ear now, a hand on his shoulder.  
"I'm staying here"  
"Why"  
"I have nowhere else to go." He turned and looked at Seamus. "Blaise is dead. What do I have to celebrate? Who with"  
A pause.  
"Come home with me"  
"What"  
"Come home with me. Mam won't mind. She knows...about the War"  
"I don't want to put you"  
"Aw, shut up. Please? I don't want to leave you here alone. Not when everyone else is leaving"  
Theodore bit his lip. Thinking. "If you're sure"  
"Of course I am!" Seamus beamed happily. He took Theodore's arm and guided him gently off of the table he had been sat on, leading him towards the door.

He leant against the window pane, watching the country fly by outside. He slept as well, against Seamus' shoulder. The first proper sleep he'd had for weeks. And he ate. More than he had done for a good few days. Mainly because Seamus made him, watching him, slightly concerned, passing him food every now and then. He was grateful. He needed someone to take care of him, now Blaise... He needed to learn to live again.

The train pulled into Kings Cross, and students flew out of carriages, into the arms of their parents, glad they had survived, pleased to be alive. Happy it was over. They collected their things and Seamus led Theodore out onto the platform, steering him between the other passengers, over to a small woman, with light brown hair and bright blue eyes who could only have been Seamus' mum.  
"Hey mam! How are you? Did you miss me? This is Theo. I've told you about him. S'ok if he stays for Christmas, right?" He babbled, enveloping her in a hug.  
Theodore wondered momentarily what exactly it was Seamus had told his mother about him. Then he wondered what he was supposed to do if it wasn't ok for him to stay.  
But Seamus' mother nodded, smiled and extended her arms to him. "Of course it's fine. Seamus has said some grand things about you." She squeezed his shoulders and turned back to her son, both unaware of the tears welling up in Theodore's eyes.  
"We're staying in London for the night, so you can do your Christmas shopping. I only booked us two rooms, though," she paused for a second. "I'm sure you boys won't mind sharing," she smiled again. "Come on, now, I expect you're hungry."

He sat that evening listening to Seamus excitedly describe the last few days of school, how Potter had woken up and come out of the hospital wing and how they'd had a party in the Gryffindor common room that had lasted three days. His mother nodded and smiled, although they both cast anxious looks at him as the evening progressed and he had little to say.  
What could he say?  
The last few days he'd spent in his room, on his bed, clinging to the fading fragments of his life as the time wore on; as Blaise slipped further and further away from him. The more time that passed, the fainter his smell on his bed and his clothes became, and the more they began to smell like Theodore as he lay curled up in them. How he'd sat for hours looking at pictures of Blaise, pictures that looked back at him so sadly, so desperately wanting to crawl out of the paper to hold him, so unable to. How Malfoy had cast one look at him and left. Millicent hadn't been to see him. Graham had vanished. Then people had started getting ready to leave for Christmas, and all he had thought about was spending the next two weeks trying to hold onto something that was already disappearing.

"Theo?" Seamus' hand smoothed back his hair and worried eyes peered into his own. "Are you ok"  
"Fine. Sorry. I should...go to bed. Sorry." He stood, surprised when both Seamus and his mother did the same. "Ok, I'll be up in a bit." Seamus replied, stroking his hair.  
"Sleep well, dear." His mother hugged him again, kissing his cheek. "We'll see you for breakfast"  
"Mmhmm," he replied, choking back a sob. She smiled and patted his shoulder, waiting until he had left the room and ascended the stairs before sitting back down.

Their room was small. And there was only a double bed and a chair. It had, of course, only been prepared for one person. He looked around, eyes falling on the chair. There was little chance of him sleeping anyway, so he sat down, curling up and resting back against the hard wood, later bitterly disappointed to find out that he had fallen asleep almost straight away. He awoke to Seamus stroking his hair again, whispering his name.  
"What're you doing in the chair, you silly thing?" He asked as Theodore eyes cracked open.  
"Sleeping, it would appear." Theodore tried to smile.  
"Yeah. In your old clothes that you came down here in and everything. Let me give you a hand." He pulled Theodore gently to his feet, balancing him steadily as he went about undressing him. Normally, Theodore would have enjoyed it, the feel of someone else's hands on his skin, someone warm touching his body. But he wobbled in a daze, complying with Seamus' demands to step out of his trousers and into some jogging bottoms, and lifting his arms to have a jumper pulled over his head. And then he was nudged onto the bed, tucked in and kissed on the nose. "You'll sleep better here." Seamus smiled, stroking Theodore's face with his thumb. "It's warmer, and a bit more comfortable than the chair"  
Theodore would have made a comment, but he fell asleep again.

He woke up alone the next morning, appalled to find out that it was almost midday and he'd slept for over twelve hours. He leapt from the bed and pulled on some clothes, a shirt, a pair of dungarees and some socks, before shuffling down the stairs to where they had been eating the night before. He was relieved to see Seamus there. Annoyed to see that he wasn't alone. Weasley, Granger, Potter and Thomas also sat around, smiling, chatting happily. Weasley noticed him first and made no comment. Then Thomas, who nodded and informed Seamus, who turned and beamed at him.  
"Come and sit down, Theo. You slept well"  
He shuffled over and hovered on the edge of a chair, ready to scamper away should he not be welcome. "We're going shopping," Seamus informed him, "For Christmas stuff. You're coming too. I need to get some of the festive spirit into you and cheer you up a bit"  
Theodore was about to protest, and say he disliked the festive spirit, that he would prefer to just sit here and mourn his boyfriend's death, but the smile on Seamus' face stopped him. A smile that said 'please, let me. I want to help you.' And he trusted Seamus. For what it was worth.

He did actually enjoy himself, being dragged around shops, though irritated slightly by Seamus' refusal to let him into a book shop until they'd scoured the rest of Diagon Alley. He managed to pick up a present for Seamus, flavoured shot glasses that added a certain something to drink, and a box of chocolates for Seamus' mother, for her hospitality. He attempted to find something for Seamus' father, but Seamus insisted his father was happier without more magical things in the house. He said it with a grin, though.

He was surprised at the short, sweet goodbyes exchanged between the friends as they returned to the inn. True, they would be seeing each other soon, and they would be writing to each other and so on, but Theodore now realised the values of proper goodbyes. Because they could be the last.

Seamus' house was set in the middle of a small Irish village. Theodore had never been to Ireland, and immediately pinned himself to the window, looking outside into the lit street, trying to distinguish something Irish.  
Seamus laughed at him and dragged him up the stairs, promising to show him Ireland tomorrow. They had to share Seamus' bed, at least for tonight until the spare one could be found. Theodore didn't mind. He hated sleeping alone. His room was warm and dark, the walls covered in photographs, some moving, waving or laughing, others still, pictures obviously drawn by Dean, and several posters of muggle bands who looked rather angry and wore more eyeliner than Seamus ever had. He gazed intently at all the pictures and the posters, allowing a smile every now and then, reaching out to touch the photos, younger Seamus', lots of chirpy looking Gryffindors, Seamus with Dean, Seamus with Lavender.  
He turned back to the bed, noticing Seamus watching him nervously. "Well"  
"Well what"  
"What do you think of me room"  
"Oh," Theodore looked around again, "It's brilliant. Very you"  
"What, messy and uncoordinated?" Seamus laughed. "No. Warm and..." Theodore searched for the right word "  
Seamus' eyes widened. "Me? You think so?" He gaped slightly when Theodore nodded.  
"You've been great to me. Thanks." "It's...not a problem. You're me mate"  
"Yeah"  
"I mean...it's a pleasure. To see you smile"  
Theodore let out a noise he intended to be confirmative and happy, instead coming out as a sob. Seamus leapt to his feet and pulled Theodore into his arms.  
"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to"  
"S'ok, I'm fine," Theodore chuckled, winding his arms around Seamus' neck and resting his head on his shoulders. "I just...you do"  
"What"  
"Make me smile"  
The arms that gripped his waist tightened as Seamus moved them closer. He was warm, his hair was soft as Theodore absent mindedly wrapped it around his fingers. "I do"  
"Mmhmm"  
"Oh"  
"Is that a problem"  
"Not at all...I...you...ok"  
"Are you sure it's not a problem?" Theodore pulled back slightly, so he could look at Seamus' face.  
"No, no, not at all...I'm...pleased." Seamus grinned, stroking his fingers lightly up and down Theodore's sides. "Good"  
They stood in silence, looking at each other for a moment, Theodore still tangling strands of Seamus' hair around his fingers, Seamus still stroking Theodore's sides. Seamus remembered Theodore's eyes. How they had looked in eyeliner, those months back, when he had dared to kiss him again. He wanted to now.  
Theodore also remembered the last time they were this close together. The press of Seamus' body against his. The feel of his lips. He remembered so well. A harsh knock at the door made them jump apart, blushing, fumbling to straighten their clothes. "Seamus, your father's home. And dinner will be ready soon, come and help lay the table"  
"Yes mam." Seamus croaked, untucking his shirt to strategically cover the front of his trousers.

Theodore watched, fascinated, as the dishwasher hummed and cleaned up the dinner things. "You should see the washing machine," Seamus joked. "It's mams favourite"  
"Seamus, go and show Theodore the television," his mother interrupted, shooing them out of the kitchen.

They sat on Seamus' bed a few hours later, Theodore quietly musing over the wonders of television, Seamus watching him muse. They had changed for bed. Well, Seamus had taken his shirt and trousers off, and lay in his underwear under the duvet, Theodore wore a t-shirt, covering him to just above his knees. Seamus wanted to reach over and rest his hand on Theodore's leg. Even better, run his hand up it, under the t-shirt, kiss him...He was glad he was under the duvet. Theodore yawned and stretched. Seamus watched the hem of the t-shirt ride up a little bit. "Sleepy?" he asked. Theodore nodded. "Shall I turn out the light?" Another nod as Theodore snuggled himself under the duvet with Seamus. "Nox." Seamus muttered, pleased that he didn't have to get up. Not that Theodore would have noticed anyway, his eyes were already shut and he was breathing heavily, rolled on his side, facing Seamus. Seamus lay down, trying to keep his body as far from Theodore's as possible. "I'm cold." Theodore whispered, shuffling down further into the bed, edging towards Seamus. Seamus moved back. "Shall I get you another cover"  
"Mmmnoo." A cold hand found its way to his side, resting against his ribs, tracing them gently. "You're warm"  
"So's my other cover, I'll get it for you"  
"No. Stay. Keep me warm"  
"Theo, I"  
"It's not like I'm asking you for sexual favours, Seamus." Theodore opened his eyes and raised and eyebrow.  
"No, but I might end up providing them if you...carry on"  
"Carry on doing what?" Theodore smirked, dragging his nails down Seamus' sides to his hip.  
"Th-that for one thing." Seamus gasped.  
"You don't like"  
"Mmmnnnooo. Like too much"  
"Can't like too much"  
"Can...might"  
"Come"  
"Mnnn, don't"  
"Don't what"  
They were close now. Very close. Theodore's nose was rubbing against Seamus', their legs entwining, Seamus moaning as their hips pressed against each other.  
"Don't what?" Theodore repeated, grinding their hips together.  
"S-say c-come"  
"Why not"  
"B-because I will"  
"Oh"  
Seamus' hand slid beneath Theodore's t-shirt, up his thigh. He heard Theodore moan and moved his hand higher.  
Their lips brushed against each other, Theodore tugged gently at Seamus' underwear, and Seamus' hand rested hesitantly at the top of Theodore's thigh.  
"Do you..." he whispered, not opening his eyes, letting Theodore's lips flutter over his face, "...is it ok"  
"Mmm," Theodore replied, pressing their lips together again, dragging Seamus' underwear down his thighs. Seamus whimpered, hand moving up to touch Theodore, who moaned and pressed against him. "Are you sure"  
"Yeah. I..." Theodore broke off to kiss Seamus again.  
"What"  
"I need you"  
"...o-oh?" Seamus gasped as Theodore's hand wrapped around him. "Help me live again"

Theodore lay beneath him, hands roaming his body, hands in his hair, making his skin tingle, making him want more. "More...want you...Theo"  
How long? How long had he wanted to do this, lay like this, be like this, feel this? So much feeling he could cry, or combust or just fall, fall forever, or drown, or maybe float on all this, all these feelings and warmth, the heat and the feel of his pulse, his pulse under his skin, which shivers when it's touched like this, which bruises when you do that. And to be inside him.  
To be around him, to be held and have this feeling, this love, this absolutely pure and unfathomably good love poured over him, so unnecessarily. Feeling muscles move with him, under his skin, skin so hot and damp with sweat, and still so so hot, lips and skin and hair and the movement and the rocking like floating at sea on a calm day and watching the sun. Just light and warmth and motion and everything so alive. Like a fire blazing over his skin, and breathing and moans and sounds that are his and his own and the press of bodies and feeling. Just. Like. This.  
"Seamus."

He traced the slow beating pulse in Theodore's neck with his finger.  
"What are you doing"  
"Looking at your pulse." He replied, leaning in to kiss it.  
"Hmmm, what's it doing"  
"Pulsating"  
"Good to know"  
"Mmm, very good. Means blood's pumping round your body. You know what that means"  
"This is your subtle way of telling me you want more sex?" Theodore rolled over to face Seamus and smirked through sleepy eyes.  
"Why, are you offering more sex?" Seamus replied, now stroking Theodore's hair.  
"No. I'm tired. You wore me out"  
"Pah, lack of stamina"  
"I've barely slept or eaten for the last two weeks, give me a break." Theodore mumbled, snuggling closer and moving under the duvet. "Sleep as much as you want now," Seamus whispered, continuing to stroke Theodore's hair, eyes trailing up from the faint scar on his left arm, to the gently beating pulse in his neck, glad that he was alive.


End file.
